After a great many revisions, and rereading and looking up a tiny bit of the lore. I can say I'm satisfied with how the fanfic is going, I am once again quarantined. The military plays no games and I can't really be upset because I'm collecting that check.
Anywho, if you haven't already reread the story, you'd best. There's a whole lot of differences and Irina's character has changed completely from someone who doesn't know how to handle being with someone who's infatuated with them, to someone who is very understanding.
I'm still having Irina go to Solstheim and go through some more character development, but this time... It's most definitely not with Cicero because looking back... There's no way he would ever leave the Night Mother, especially not before he discovers the dragonborn is the Listener.
Anyway. Enjoy and if you gotta roast me, do it.
More updates y'all. 2023 BABY. I never meant to really change this chapter but pent-up aggression is something Irina deals with, she just shoves her emotions down into herself until she finally lets it out.
She has her coping mechanisms, but how the story is going to go... her coping mechanisms aren't fully utilized and they are more like bandaids instead of actual healing.
This won't be entirely different but I wanted to flesh out her character for myself, don't worry, you guys will get more Serana sexy times.
Our hands were once idle, now through them does he speak…
and when the world shall listen, and when the world shall see and when the world remembers…
that world shall cease to be...
An awful sensation was wrapping itself around the dragonborn's throat, it was gloved and the feeling gave the impression that the material was leather. The size of the hand was large and it almost reached all around the elf's throat; squeezing lightly at first, enough to make sure the woman had awoke from the sudden contact.
Glowing undead eyes opened to be met with darkness, everything was a blur and shrouded in mystery save for a few inches in front of her face. Irina could only make out the glove and robes along with the smell of the ocean and ash, a familiar scent.
The loose robes did nothing to hide the pack of muscle before her, the arm was three times more dense and thick than hers and the shift of muscles could be seen when the leather clad fingers moved about her neck. Their grip was gradually becoming tighter, so tight to the point that Irina had to bring her chin up to keep airflow.
Strong legs straddled her waist yet she couldn't see them, only feel the robes and muscle against her stomach.
Their surroundings were still very much in darkness but it was almost as if a light was slowly getting brighter, illuminating the area. Irina didn't know anything besides what was happening in front of her, the cultist squeezing her throat and that she was lying on... sand?
Her brows furrowed at seeing the ocean before her, her back that had lied on a featherbed was up against sand, no, ash- the cultist's hand squeezed the sides of her throat tightly cutting the air out completely and brought the elf's attention back to her attacker.
Irina struggled and made to buck her hips forward to move her legs around the cultist's to try and kick his body away; but he was too big, his weight and size outmatched her three times over. The only thing her struggle did was make her attacker groan in bliss, Irina felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand at the sound and felt disgust course through her blood.
The cultist used his free hand to grasp her chin and turned her head side to side examining her features. A moment passed and then two, the cultist released her chin with a forceful push.
Irina made a strangled sound when his fingers began to dig into her neck, his grip was tight. So tight it caused her skin to turn violet. Irina had never been on the receiving end of strangulation. She had killed countless bandits this way in the past. Their struggle always seemed to thrill her, but now she knew the understood the pain. How it burned and how her eyes began to swell.
She'd been cut shoulder to belly from the debris of a house. It stung and it was a sizzling pain, Irina could never forget. Then much later, a decent length of blade stabbed inches from her heart, the silver had burned the skin and she nearly blacked out from the pain.
But this? The lack of air caused her to become light-headed and the strength of her arms left her, her hands slid off his forearm and her toned arms fell against ash and sand. From the corner of her eye the dragonborn could see a small outline of a settlement and a dock and she knew immediately where she was.
This was Raven Rock, Irina was on the island of Solstheim.
Her orange eyes moved back to her attacker. Just in time to catch the other hands movement to his mask. She expected a dunmer, as the cultists normally consisted of dunmeri. She didn't expect another nord. The left side of his face was tattooed with blue ink in the form of a snake running down his temple and cheekbone. A braid framing the same side with a strong jaw and piercing green eyes.
Before she could examine him further his grip strength had tripled and her neck was snapped.
Irina awoke with a rigid frame and wide eyes.
The bosmer pushed herself up from the bed and threw the covers off her frame in a hurry, she expected a silhouette from the bed sheets but found none. The sheets were sprawled on the floor in a mess while the bosmer stared at them questioningly. The bosmer placed a hand to her throat and didn't feel any pain.
It was a dream.
The bosmer stared at empty space before she sluggishly picked up the blanket from the floor, Irina inhaled a shaky breath and held the air inside for a little while before blowing it out calmly. Her breathing was still quick, but not as sporadic as when she first awoke.
She moved back to her bed and her hands had begun to work at folding the sheets back in place, she worked meticulously and automatically. As she worked she noticed the small tremble. She wasn't sure if it was because of anger or if they were trembled out of fear, or just because she was so overwhelmed that she didn't know how to react.
She knew exactly who the nord in her dreams was supposed to be, Miraak.
The man who'd taken to sending cultists up to High Hrothgar after she defeated Alduin, during her recovery. One would think that that would be the perfect time to strike, but the greybeards did nothing short of excellence as her caretakers and blasted the cultist back down the way they'd came.
She heard of the tale once she woke up from her short coma. This was many many years ago.
How is it that she couldn't remember him? He'd sent his men to kill her numerous times during her recovery. It was strange that she hadn't seen any more of them recently.
Irina had gone to Solstheim for that reason. The cultist attacks. She remembered going with Mjoll. The woman had acquired a shiny new greatsword for herself and Irina had gotten her distinct Deathbrand armor from the island. Why is it that she couldn't recall anything else? She had gone to settle the matter with Miraak herself, but she recalled no swordfight ever taking place with anybody other than reavers.
Then... nothing. Irina didn't even remember the voyage back to the mainland.
A piece of my memory is gone.
The realization made her eyes go wide. She stopped her movements and looked down at her hands, caught in the middle of folding one corner over the other. She inhaled deeply and exhaled quietly, she resumed making the bed and only when she finished did Irina stand on exhausted legs.
If these were normal circumstances she would've dealt with this immediately and taken a boat to Solstheim. That being said, Irina couldn't just drop everything to go off and kill this man. She'd already made a deal with Serana, they would find her mother and pinpoint the location of the elder scroll. Harkon could not have it, he was another matter entirely- and just as serious, if not more so.
His prophecy could not come true, Irina had an elder scroll of her own that she was sure he'd never find. One that she was also sure that he needed, that would have been more than enough reasurrance for most people but it wouldn't do for Serana or even herself. Harkon was a stubborn man, if he needed three scrolls and could only find two- he was more than capable of filling in the blanks.
The dovahkiin rubbed at her neck with furrowed brows.
I waste time wondering these things, Miraak would not wait for me to finish this business- I must find a stopping point for this vampire mess and then return to Solstheim.
She stood up on uneasy legs, so much to do. So little time to do so. The bosmer turned around and glanced at Serana who had been fast asleep, clearly not registering Irina's silent fit. The room was very dark save for a few candles allowing dim visibility, and Irina found that the corner of her mouth wanted to turn upwards at examining her sleeping form.
She looked so peaceful, must be because she's certain we'll find her mother.
Irina felt a pang of guilt hit her chest, and a frown settled itself on her face instead of the smile that compelled her only moments ago.
To go back on her promise to the nord would surely be the cause of unrest between them. Her frown deepened at the thought and Irina slowly and quietly walked out of the room to sulk someplace else. She spared one final glance at the sleeping nord before setting her eyes straight ahead.
Meditation would help clear her mind, she concluded.
Her feet took her to the sanctuary's center cavern, where the word of power was. Not the most serene word to meditate on but she supposed with all the evil taking root in Skyrim it would give her a reason to not hang her head low. She'd had many of those thoughts, to accept her fate or accept defeat. But her inner dovah and the tenacity that it brought forth from the deepest recesses of her mind and heart would never let her. In truth, it was something to be appreciated.
Lun...
"Leech..." Irina mumbled softly.
Her fingers grazed over the word on the stone and she slipped her eyes closed. With deep practiced breaths Irina relaxed her tense muscles and felt dull vibrations come from the tips of her fingers the sensation slowly creeped itself up her arm at an achingly slow pace, Irina almost made to sit down but a voice snapped her out of her trance.
"You know the language, don't you?"
Irina made a sound of surprise and as she turned around to greet the voice, she could feel the vibrations stop.
It was Cicero, he was walking to her with his arms crossed. His ridiculous hat was gone and his red hair replaced it instead "I do, the Greybeards taught me- It's a simplified language and I managed to learn it quickly, but I am dragonborn and so I have that advantage."
The jester gave a sound of acknowledgement in response, he lowered his arms and began to stride over to her.
Only when he came up next to her did Irina notice how small the man was. He was easily a few inches shorter than she, but she could tell through his clothes that the man packed muscle. Cicero turned his head to meet her gaze and she blinked back into focus "what does this say? The whole wall, I mean, I've always wondered."
Irina turned her attention back to word wall. It was almost like reading bosmeri and tamrielic- it came natural to her. She skimmed it over before finally translating "Here fell the treacherous thief Skorji-Leech-Fingers, whose head was removed by the very axe he tried to steal."
The jester gave a hum at what was said, not something he expected, the imperial thought it would refer to the Night Mother in some way but apparently not. The sanctuary itself was newer than the cave, this was surely a nordic ruin before any of the brotherhood decided to settle themselves inside.
Cicero placed his chin in his hand and he squinted at the wall trying to find some meaning in its being, intently focused. Irina watched him with a half-smile. He was very animated. Every thought he seemed to have was displayed on his face.
His next question made the smile disappear completely.
"Are you cold, sister? Do your undead hands tremble because of the weather? Or something else?" He asked her with concern that she couldn't tell was either genuine or fake, with a voice like his it's hard to tell the difference. She glanced down to her hands and found that they were in fact trembling, her eyes flickered back up to his before responding.
"I had a bothersome dream. I was going to meditate but given the meaning of this word... I doubt it would help." she explained flexing her fingers and curling them into a fist. Irina eventually let her arm hang loosely at her side before shrugging at the man with a half-smile.
Cicero hummed in acknowledgement, he looked almost childlike. He was quite the eccentric man, Irina noted.
"May I, sister?" he asked her gently.
Irina looked confused, she didn't know what he wanted until he pointed to her hands, the dovahkiin tilted her head to the side and a startled noise left her when he stepped forward and took her hands within his own. His eyes slipped closed and he breathed in evenly. She looked at him with a raised brow, she made to say something but Irina caught sight of the green magic seeping from his hands.
A soft sigh left her lips and she felt the calming presence of his magic take over her body. Her hands stopped their trembling and she relaxed her shoulders, she felt warmth moving through her body. As if she were still alive. She wasn't even surprised at the sensation, she simply accepted it.
"What did you do?" she asked him as he gently released her from his hold.
"A calming spell, it won't last long since you're a powerful being but as long as you feel the affects... That's what you'd want." he explained casually while placing a hand on his hip, it weren't for his muscular build then he would've resembled a flamboyant man, Irina thought absently.
"I do feel better, more relaxed. Normally I would've just trained until I couldn't lift my sword or find a bandit camp to raid, at least- I did that plenty before the mountain. I still feel the need to kill something though, of course, something or someone that deserve it." Irina added the last part as an afterthought.
"Oh! I would be more than happy to accompany you for a kill, if you'd let me. I also take great pleasure in killing things." he spoke excitedly.
Irina should have been taken aback by his wording but given that they were assassins it was no more surprising than Irina being dragonborn. She looked him over a few times before nodding her head and motioning for the entrance, "I'll be outside in a few minutes. I suppose we could find a pack of wolves to cut through, or even a few bandits."
There was a light in Cicero's eyes that Irina should have found unsettling, but she didn't.
"You said a few minutes, I would call you a liar but given how fast you donned your armor I'm more impressed than anything." Cicero spoke from the small pond just outside the entrance. He gave her a light smile, he relaxed against the mound of earth with his arms crossed. Despite his comment his aura and body language implied patience.
Irina walked out the sanctuary fully armored and had been tightening her sword belt upon hearing his words, Irina made a questioning sound and narrowed her eyes at him, "pardon me for getting dressed in the dark, Cicero."
He placed a hand over his mouth and chuckled at her annoyance. Clearly not intimidated in the slightest, the bosmer wondered what his level of skill was in combat. There could be a chance that the man was an equally talented fighter because Irina's annoyance seemed to be the funniest thing to him, which was uncommon.
The woman only sighed and let herself forget her annoyance. She was not about to prod into his psyche now, not when she couldn't even think straight herself.
Instead she spoke, "Let's take the horses, I'd like some distance from here. No need for a commotion so close to Falkreath. I hope we can find something worth our time."
"Whatever you want, sister. My, my, my... This would be my first time seeing the dragonborn in battle, It's almost exciting to think about." he said holding the reins in a firm grip whilst glancing back to the bosmer, his eyes were bright and she realized that the imperial was unsually attractive.
Irina would have felt flattered but given her current mood and his own strange mannerisms... She only took the reins to Frost and nodded to the road.
The rain from the day previous had the ground beneath their horses muddy and the cobblestone path slippery. The night was quiet and the sky was clear, not a cloud to be seen.
Irina exhaled disappointedly, of course on a beautiful night bandits wouldn't try to rob them. Just her luck. Although she supposed trying to kill something as a stress reliever wasn't the most enlightening way to conduct herself.
Neither was being a thief or assassin... Irina sighed quietly again. The way of the voice was helpful in teaching her patience, to not always shed blood and simply honing herself as a better person. However, she loved battle and the thrill of a kill. Conflicting perspectives... a part of her that loves to fight, and another that respects self-restraint.
"You don't seem too excited to be outside anymore." Cicero noted while he moved his horse a little closer to hers.
Irina lifted her eyes to meet his questioning ones, "We aren't finding anyone sticking to the road, and I don't want to drag you through a cavern filled with who knows what. Don't need you to be poisoned from a spider or anything else."
Cicero placed a hand over his heart and inhaled sharply through his nose. Irina felt hairs rise on the back of her neck when his expression turned into a genuine look of bashfulness. "I do appreciate the sentiment. Truly, I do. No one ever gives poor Cicero any thought for his well-being."
"Not just that, you're the keeper to the night-mother. It would be unfortunate for her to lose you by her side for a prolonged period of time." Irina responded. She avoided her eyes from his, not wanting the jester to say anything further.
Cicero took the hint and he only hummed in delight as a silent response. They continued on horseback for another long while before the jester's sharp eyes caught sight of three figures just on the horizon. With a quick and precise motion Cicero threw his hand up to signal their stop. He pulled tight on his reins causing his horse to whine a little but he softly hushed it with a stroke to its mane.
Irina followed suit and looked in the direction he gazed at. On the horizon were people to be sure, they were hardly visible. It was a miracle that the jester had managed to see them from so far away.
They continued onward, slowing their horses to a snail's pace. They wanted to be close enough to distinguish their prey but not close enough for them to notice their presence either. Irina felt a bit of unease, it was surely past midnight. Who in their right mind would be traveling the road at this hour?
They advanced together, slowly, quietly. Once Irina was able to distinguish their forms and shapes, her breath hitched.
Of course It's them. Why wouldn't it be them?
Dawnguard.
She felt her fangs take up more space in her mouth, she wasn't sure if they had extended or if she was hyper-aware of them now. Her mouth had begun to water and her breaths turned uneven, hardly noticeable to the average person but not her new comrade. Cicero took notice of her change in demeanor and raised a silent eyebrow to her, Irina could feel his eyes on her and she swallowed slowly.
"I find that I'm hungry." she concluded without looking in his direction.
He would have believed her, had her knuckles not turned ghost white at how tightly she gripped the reins to her steed.
"Save one, I've got questions to ask. I'm sure you see the value in it, seeing as how I turned traitor to their organization. It would be in my best interest" she said.
He merely nodded in response, his shoulders has squared themselves. Cicero seemed to finally acknowledge that the dovahkiin was a vampire, and her new behavior made him unsettled- but only a little.
The two slowed their horses and dismounted them off road. The imperial hummed a tune while tethering his own horse and Frost to a nearby trunk.
Her skill in the art of thievery made the noise from her armor basically soundless, Cicero followed close behind almost equally as stealthy. The imperial smirked and unsheathed an ebony dagger twirling it about between his fingers while Irina had equipped her bow.
Cicero was nearly ecstatic, the journey to the sanctuary had been long and tiring. The mere chance Irina had agreed for a night-kill was almost too good to be true.
This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
The thought was nice.
They both crouched low and stayed off the road, should they be noticed with their weapons unsheathed- that would only cause their prey to retaliate. Cicero watched the trio curiously, he thought it strange why they haven't made camp yet, they walked very slowly. Exhaustion was painted in their mannerisms and in the way they walked.
There was three. Two large brutes, presumably men with one carrying a greatsword. The other carried a warhammer. The last one was a slender woman, they all looked young save for the woman who seemed to be only slightly older than the other two. She carried a crossbow on her back and a sword on her hip.
The two assassins were covered easily, the only problem now was how to initiate the attack.
They were a good couple meters away, hidden by the foilage of the forest. Irina would utilize her bow to be sure, she was the one who had to strike first. She hoped that she could silently convey the message to Cicero. She glanced in his direction and found that he was already staring at her, expectantly.
They both tensed when the woman spoke in an abrasive tone, breaking the silence, "how far do you intend to take me and Leigen, Curin? It's dark and like I said before vampires are always lurking about in the shadows- not to mention Falkreath."
The tallest of the two men stopped walking and gave her an exasperated sigh before condescendingly shaking his head at her. The tall one was presumably Curin. He looked to the woman and responded "if you hadn't spent all our septims on silver ingots then we would've had an inn to sleep in, don't put the idea in your head that we didn't have a choice, stupid woman."
They creeped closer at a slow pace while the two Dawnguard members argued.
The other one who was obviously Leigen, had remained silent and kept his eyes on the road ahead. "What do you mean waste all our septims? I'd like to refresh your memory that we needed those ingots to smelt down to your stupid war-hammer! It already has enchantments to fight vampires, but you wanted it to be effective against all undead, its not like we're fighting draugr, you oaf."
Curin's annoyance flickered all across his face and faced her fully, he was a tall one, with blonde hair and tan skin "I can do whatever I so please with my weapon, and don't act as if you didn't need to do the exact same thing."
The woman flushed a bright pink before raising her voice again "fine then! but you were the one that spent nearly fifty gold on ale alone!" Her voice was that with an accent, it hard to tell if the woman was either a breton or nord. Human nonetheless.
"A man needs a drink to warm himself in the night when a woman refuses, pardon me for being a gentleman and giving you your much needed space." Curin responded as if the answer was obvious and he had the audacity to sound as if he were being offended, the woman groaned loudly and shook her head much how like a teen would, "look, let's just make camp now we can rest and be good to go for tomorrow, I'm cold and my feet are becoming one with my damn boots, Leigen are you listening? I'd appreciate some support."
The other Dawnguard, Leigen, looked at her with his head tilted to the side. He was much shorter- but his build was more muscular than Curin's. A helmet covered his face but one could see in the small space of his armor, pale skin and small tufts of black hair on his neck "we haven't even been walking for two hours, you can hold for a couple more- with all the noise you two have made I'm sure the dragonborn could hear us from High Hrothgar."
Irina's patience had ran out at the mention of her name and readied her bow, hearing their insufferable arguing was offending both of their ears.
Slowly and almost gracefully the dovahkiin nocked an ebony arrow and held her bow-arm steady, her muscles flexed and shifted snuggly against the inside of her armor. Cicero watched in silent appreciation at the woman's elegance, her eyes were narrowed and had a hatred burning in them despite having kept her composure for the entire night.
His lips curled into a grin, oh he liked this one, he liked her very much.
The only one without their helm was the woman whose name was unbeknownst and the only one whose voice seemed the most aggravating. Cicero held his dagger firmly and waited for her to shoot in order to barge out and kill the other two; a quiet breath was heard and the soft light sound of the string being released was the only thing that broke the silence.
Cicero silently began his own approach.
The arrow traveled a good distance and made its target burying itself deeply within her knee, the woman cried out in pain and fell to the ground in a shivering mess clutching her knee tightly as she fell. Irina smirked and proceeded to nock another arrow in place, at this point Curin and Leigen were at attention and their exhaustion disappeared to be replaced with adrenaline.
The two men frantically looked around the area to find who shot their fellow comrade but the darkness and the shadows from the forest made it damn near impossible; Curin narrowed his eyes and clutched his war-hammer tightly with both hands, a giant hunk of steel with silver melted down and fused at the end of the hammer.
There was no way Irina could survive a blow to her body with that monstrous weapon, it was a good thing her prey was a novice at combat. She could tell by how open he was and the lack of tact his expression held.
"Come out you damned bandits! You think you're good at sneaking around? Come a little closer and we can find out!" Curin shouted with might and chest, his back was straight and his strong arms held the war-hammer in one hand.
Irina rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. He was loud, too loud.
Leigen, who felt unsettled by the silence kneeled down to the woman and uncorked a potion of healing with his eyes darting about, it was one of little bottles that you could buy for barely thirty septims. There was no way that cheap potion would help her in the situation, maybe soothe her pain, but for what? It was futile.
Irina's expression was one of controlled anger. She never had the misfortune of feeling the emotions she did before in her life, the purest form of anger, the uncertainty of her love's well-being, the guilty conscious she had to bare for weeks... the list could go on. While she knew better than to blame every person who donned the armor of the Dawnguard, this was one of those rare occurrences where Irina did not give a damn.
The woman's moans and cries was all that could be heard while Leigen did his best to calm her down, his hand cradled the back of her head while the other held her tiny hand within his own.
A warm glow was seen from her blonde hair and it took Irina a few moments to realize that Leigen was using a spell on her to keep her from hyperventilating, probably also to silence her as well because Irina was ready to shoot another arrow through her throat.
Irina used the darkness and shadows to her advantage whilst moving more to the left of them, so their backs faced her.
Much to Irina's complete surprise, Cicero walked out of the shadows and threw his hands up in the air in a mock surrender. His dagger strapped to his belt, Irina's eyes widened to the size of saucers and she shouted a thousand curses in her mind at his foolishness. What in oblivion was he thinking? She gripped the trunk of a tree with an iron grip to keep from dashing out and grabbing Cicero by his neck.
"You stupid... oaf" she whispered fiercely, her eyes furrowed in frustration.
The woman was too preoccupied with her pain to use her crossbow on him, thank the gods.
She held Leigen's hand in an iron grip that he found himself struggling to untangle from. Fortunately for those two, that did not matter anyway because Curin made an ugly battle cry and charged at Cicero not even thinking about how the jester hadn't a bow on his person, not even thinking that there could be another person out in the shadows.
Irina would've nocked another arrow but the calmness and the confidence radiating from the jester halted her movements, Curin thought the keeper's small stature would've made him a coward or simply an easy target but the Dawnguard and Irina were surprised when imperial ducked under the man's swing with such agility and grace only to grab ahold of Curin's shins.
Curin tipped forward from the force of his swing and landed on his chest with a cough, his war-hammer still tightly in his grip. Cicero sprang up to his feet and took in a deep breath, his hands gripped Curin's hips, placed a knee outside the man's hips and with leverage and core strength flipped him on his back.
The woman and Leigen watched in shock at the short man's strength and skill. "By the eight…" Irina mumbled completely dumbfounded.
Curin's head hit the ground causing blood to flow freely down over his facial features. His vision was disoriented and blurred but with a deep growl and with as much strength as he could muster grabbed ahold of one of Cicero's ankles pulling the jester against his body, the redhead grunted loudly but fell with the force of his tug.
In a flash the redhead unsheathed his dagger with the force of his fall used the momentum to plunge his dagger through the man's armor and to his heart, Curin stared wide-eyed up at him. The beating of his heart didn't stop, and it served to make the man more aware of the blade inside his body.
Cicero looked him in his eyes with the proudest smile gracing his features. Curin had planned to drag the smaller man onto his chest and squeeze the life out of him. His expression of confusion was evident and the first waves of shock were overcoming his body. Cicero wanted to relish his expression but he knew better and quickly pulled his blade free from the organ.
Blood squirted out of his chest and unto the imperials face giving Cicero a menacing appearance to go with his unsettling smile. He looked proud. The blood on his face only served to send a chill down Irina's spine. Cicero plunged his dagger back inside the opening of the armor, Curin's body convulsing with the blow, and twisted his dagger some more, earning a struggled groan from the man.
Irina moved her gaze to Leigen who had wrapped an arm around the woman's shoulders and hoisted her up to her feet, Curin was already dead, his body was violently twitching and his face turning white from the lack of blood in his body. Cicero only expedited the process by repeatedly stabbing him in the chest, blood squirted out in every direction, mostly landing on Cicero.
The moons light began to disappear behind overlapping clouds and when Cicero finally tired of his carnage, he stood erect and glanced to the pair. He was nothing more than silouhette. His eyes moved to where Irina was and with a half-grin motioned for her to reveal herself.
With her distinctive armor, she was easy to identify; the woman and Leigen stared at her in shock for they couldn't comprehend the smile that graced her lips. It wasn't crazed, it was too calm... and almost, heartwarming.
"Well don't you look like you've seen a ghost?" Irina joked stepping over Curin who tried to reach for her ankles but missed, the bosmer glanced down to his body in annoyance before shoving her boot in his throat, he struggled before Irina silenced him for good by kicking his temple with the tip of her boot.
Leigen swallowed deeply at the display of cruelty while the woman looked away and buried her face into the nord's chest; the dragonborn lazily returned her gaze to them and proceeded to walk their way. Her actions were unusual to them, but not to Cicero. The jester could see the rage in her eyes, she held no contempt in her expression only a cool countenance.
That only made her all the more intimidating, and laced with a smile too.
Irina caught a quick flicker of movement from Leigen and snapped into focus, the man set the woman down on the ground and poised himself with a leg behind his back to give him an extra boost to charge at her.
It was obvious to everyone what he wanted to do and with a sigh the bosmer looked to Cicero who had already silently creeped behind the pair and stepped over the woman, who was frightened at the flash of red and black rushing past her, before slashing the black-haired man's ankles. The force caused Leigen to stumble and trip on himself. He landed on his stomach but his head hit the ground.
The man had bitten on his tongue and his heavy helmet clashed with the front of his head. It had been pathetic to watch. He was sprawled on the ground in a tangled mess of of his own making, Cicero hummed a small tune and looked to Irina "which one do you want? Him or the woman?"
"I'll go to the woman, you may kill this one." she said coldly. She stepped around his body and made her way to the woman. Cicero burst into a fit of laughter and eyed the man up and down. His dagger was in a death grip and he couldn't wait to watch the light leave the mans eyes.
The only thing Irina heard next was the sound of metal slicing through flesh. She let out a small sigh and didn't bother to look behind her, already unsettled by the mess Cicero made with Curin.
Irina glanced down to the woman. She had tried to crawl away, but what with her knee and how it bled... it was in vain.
"You are pretty, what's your name?" Irina asked the woman.
The woman tensed and looked up at the elf whose face was shadowed due to the moonlight being behind them. Her orange eyes peered down at the Dawnguard with silent focused fury. When no response was given, Irina kneeled down to her level. The blonde remained silent whilst the elf placed a delicate hand on her cheek. She began to tremble within the elf's hold, "It's rude to not answer your thane."
"J-Joldis. My name is Joldis" she said with a single shaky breath.
"I heard you the first time, Joldis- by chance were you three in Riften say, four to six days ago?" Irina asked her with a hint of annoyance laced in her voice, the woman was terrified and it showed when she tensed at the tone Irina used.
She was clearly too inexperienced and had some foolish idea develop in her mind that she was skilled enough in combat to be out hunting vampires, Joldis wasn't Dawnguard material- she was hardly bandit material. Isran must have been out of his wits to allow such a novice to join his ranks. All three of them were such novices Irina should have felt insulted.
She focused her eyes back to the blonde woman before her. "Were you in Riften? Did you find the orc's body? Did you know it was me?" with every question being asked her tone got more and more harsh. The hand on her cheek that was at first a gentle touch had now moved to grip her chin and force eye-contact.
"Yes! Yes... we found him and realized the prisoners were gone." she said in a terrified voice. She felt as if her jaw were glued together and had no idea how to control the immense fear she experienced.
Irina remained silent as she continued to speak.
"Please... allow me to live. I'm begging you, I don't want to die yet." she whimpered out in the most pitiful voice Irina had ever heard.
She furrowed her brows and at seeing her displeasure Joldis fell silent as she held her breath. Orange eyes were narrowed into slits against the darkness, her lips curled downwards into a snarl.
"I'm sure you don't. Who ever wants to die? I need more information from you, what is the situation at the fort? What do you know?" Irina asked with an even tone despite her annoyance slithering through. She couldn't believe the audacity of the woman. To beg for her own life after being a bystander to Lydia's imprisonment.
Her lip begun to tremble and Irina already knew she wouldn't get much information out of her now.
"I will n-never tell you a damn thi-" whatever pride Joldis had left in her body was smothered by the dovahkiin's fist connecting with her jaw. A precise strike that made an unsettling sound.
The bosmer tilted her head to the side with a blank expression while she moved her wrist in slow lazy circles. "Very admirable, that almost made me want to clap. If you're not going to cooperate that's fine, I don't necessarily need the information so much as want it."
Joldis remained silent but held a look in her eye that was supposed to burn through Irina's spirit but only irritated it instead.
"I don't have the time nor resources to do what I need to send Isran a message… but you know what?" Irina leaned in close to the woman's ear sending shivers down her spine. Her breath cascaded down her neck and Joldis, despite herself felt her cheeks flush at the delicate fingertips that traced themselves up and down the side of her neck.
"I'm awfully hungry." Irina said in the softest voice, all directly in her ear. Joldis felt herself go white in the face and began to tremble in Irina's hold. Her fear gave Irina some satisfaction but only for a moment.
"Why? Why are you doing this? I... I looked up to you, dovahkiin. What madness forced you into turning into a vampire?" she weaped. Her thoughts were in disarray and she spoke everything that was coming into her mind. Her pride all but lost now was replaced with fear and despair.
Irina grabbed a fistful of her hair and brought her face close, Joldis tensed at the pain from her harsh pull. "I am dovahkiin, correct. I am a vampire now, correct. I don't know what sort of moral compass you thought I had but you are very mistaken if you think I've lived my life as some sort of saint."
"Every single person inside that castle turned their backs on a helpless. Pregnant. Innocent... woman. Haven't you got any shame from that? The things she told me your people did to interrogate her... She didn't even tell me everything either. Just bits that I could have already inferred." Irina took in a heavy breath and controlled herself before Joldis saw another break in her composure. "But I know pain, Joldis. There is now a newfound fear inside her, fear that the Dawnguard instilled. Fear that she didn't deserve. Not that any of you bothered to think about."
"and yet despite everything... You people drag her into my fight-"
"I never touched her! You can't blame place that blame on the rest of us in the fort, it was only Celann who was insistent with her!" Irina chuckled in astonishment.
The bosmer sighed "that only makes you look worse." Irina curled her hand into a fist and struck the woman right in the nose, a crack was heard and her knuckles came back crimson, the blood dripped to the earth beneath them and Irina silently praised herself for the damage done.
The bosmer glanced to her hand, "The three of you didn't deserve this, I'm aware. But, nonetheless- It's your life or mine. Your cause may be just. But your leaders aren't, and you willingly turn a blind eye to them. It's the same with the stormcloaks, what's the point in declaring your fight is for freedom when there's a man waiting to be a dictator once he's given a crown? What's the purpose of killing vampires when it's at the cost of hurting the innocent?"
There was a silence between them, the blonde stared at her with wide eyes. The words made perfect sense and it was maddening. Whether or not Joldis actually listened to her, the bosmer did not know. She did not care anymore.
Any question that the dovahkiin had, was now unimportant. She could feel her mouth water at the sight of the woman's pale neck and began inching forward.
Irina covered the woman's mouth with her calloused hand and used her other hand to hold her in place as she sunk her fangs into the pale neck. Joldis simply lay limp in her arms, warm tears spilled freely from her eyes and Irina could almost feel sorry for her.
Almost.
Cicero made it a point to drag the bodies somewhere in the tree-line so no passerby's would see the carnage. Irina thought it to be a sound idea and once they were finsihed with the hastily made clean-up, Cicero spoke up.
"I didn't think your nightmare was so bad that you'd be so cruel to that woman. Must have been one nasty dream." he said with a half-smile.
Irina sighed and shook her head, "I would say it more to be pent-up aggression. I didn't realize how much aggression I had until tonight... That being said, I don't regret killing them in cold-blood. Unusual even for me, to kill ones just for sport."
Her companion hummed in thought, "Your humanity is still intact, sister. Although not entirely there. I don't have any of it left."
"I wouldn't exactly call it humanity, I enjoy killing when it's a thief or thug on the roads. I love battle and a chance to put my blade through a moving target. Something akin to a challenge if that makes sense. The only reason I didn't think twice with the Dawnguard is because of the personal business I have with their leaders. If that didn't exist, I don't know if I would have still wanted to hurt them." Irina admitted.
She found herself surprised at how much she explained herself. She didn't have to do that with the imperial, he was only there for a kill. He enjoys that aspect of his profession, so it made sense. Her orange eyes went to meet his and she found herself shocked at the understanding that came from him.
Could it be that he wasn't only just a mindless killer? Did that go for the rest of them?
"Oh sweet sister, your heart is still gentle. At least, I think so. I wouldn't go about telling that to just any random imperial who wants to accompany you on the road though. You might receive a disapproving response." he grinned.
Irina shook her head and found the corners of her mouth turn upwards at his light jest.
"I'm no fool, Cicero."